Savor Too Little

This October morning is brisk. My thoughts are drawn to several years ago about this time. It was a slushy, rainy day. As I looked out my window I saw a little fawn curled up on my front porch to get out of the weather. I watched him, thinking that any moment he would jump up and run. He looked so alone and cold. I inched out on the porch and soon I was stoking him. He didn't move. With old towels I began to rub him dry. I even retrieved the hair dryer (our favorite household gadget to get warm under the sheets). He seemed to love it all. I could see a thank you in his eyes. I too said thank you for the experience of being so close to one of the animals that are always in our fields. I put a plate of grain by him, covered him with a dry blanket and went to bed. In the morning he was dead, a quiet sadness. I couldn't get him off my mind, and to my utter amazement the next day another fragile young deer did the same thing. Could it be the same deer? No it wasn't. I repeated the task of getting him dry and using the hair dryer on him. His eyes were so soft and watery. I decided that these two little deer were probably twins, born too early. They did not have the strength to make it through the winter. This young deer could probably smell his brother who had slept in the exact same corner on my porch. How nice for me to have shared those last hours up close to them. I know there are tender lessons about death for me to learn from this. Wallsburg never ceases to amaze me.
* I am reminded of the two separate nights Matt sat up with Sam (the first Sam) and little Archie (also a Black Lab).The dogs had both been hit by a car. These dogs and Matt cried and cried together. At the time I was so amazed at the love and patience Matt had as he held them through the entire night. He taught me an enduring lesson about love.
* "Appreciate the ordinary. We do too much and savor too little. We mistake activities for happiness."